Page 103 of Hit Me With Your Best Shot

Big words considering it’s mostly a game of chance.

And luck.

The first few moves are harmless enough, but it doesn’t take long before his strategy—or lack thereof—becomes apparent. He’s playing more to distract me than to win, making exaggerated moves and muttering fake strategies under his breath.

I roll my eyes.

Gio’s grin falters when I drop a piece into the perfect slot, blocking his next move.

“Boom,” I say, sitting back with a triumphant smile. “What was that about strategy?”

He mutters something under his breath, peeling off his hoodie to reveal a tightly fitted Baddies tee shirt.

I take a moment to admire his muscles, reaching over to squeeze one.

He flexes.

“So firm,” I compliment him. “You must work out.”

He flexes some more. “A little here and there. You know, just trying to stay in shape and impress the ladies.”

I smack him.

I laugh, sitting back and watching as he makes his move. His focus is clearly divided—half on the game, half on trying to impress me—and it’s almost too easy to block his next play.

When I drop my red piece into the grid, cutting off his carefully laid plans, he stares at the board for a long moment, his mouth opening and closing like he’s trying to think of a way to recover.

“Wowza,” I say, smirking. “You’re not great at this.”

“This game requires zero talent,” he claims, though the sheepish grin on his face says otherwise. “I’m just distracted by the idea of getting you naked.”

“And how’s that going for you?” I drop my chip into another slot. “Boom, I win again.”

He peels off his tee shirt.

I blink, momentarily thrown off by the sight of his bare chest.

Smooth.

Fit.

“My turn since I just lost,” he tells me, resetting the board and leaning forward to rest his chin on his hand. “And don’t get cocky, you’ve only won twice. I’m just getting warmed up.”

“Sure you are,” I say, forcing myself to focus as I take myturn. But it’s harder than I expect with him sitting there, shirtless and smirking like he knows exactly what he’s doing to me.

The game continues, and while I’m determined to keep my winning streak alive, Gio seems equally determined to make me lose my focus.

He leans closer every chance he gets, brushes his hand against mine when I reach for the next piece, and tosses compliments my way that are just distracting enough to make me hesitate.

“I have an idea,” he murmurs close to my ear, sending a shiver down my spine, straight to my vajajay—it knows what that mouth can do…

“Hmm?” I manage, the proximity of his lips to my ear is enough to short-circuit my brain.

He smells so good…

My mouth waters at the memory of how good his skin tastes.

“I think,” Gio murmurs, his voice low and teasing. Tongue flicks my ear. “You’re working so hard to win this game. And for what? A shirtless date? How about I reward you with a little...performance?”

---